


are you christmas? 'cause i wanna merry you

by scoutshonour



Series: home is wherever i’m with you [5]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Holidays, M/M, New Years, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 13:48:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17163092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scoutshonour/pseuds/scoutshonour
Summary: "It's not Christmas anymore," he mumbles. "So I can tell our boyfriend to suck my dick.""Maybe in the morning.""Maybe--you're supposed to insult me back.""Okay, then I won't suck your dick in the morning. Pick one.""You can't suck his dick because we're going boxing day shopping," Nancy says, "maybe after."(or: the days after Christmas leading to New Years)





	are you christmas? 'cause i wanna merry you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [puddingandpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/puddingandpie/gifts).



> me to me: i'm not going to post something for Christmas
> 
> also me: is full of shit and posts something the day OF christmas
> 
> i didn't even intend on writing this but then the opening line hit me on my way to a christmas party and i just knew. i just KNEW i had to. 
> 
> enjoy this + the fifth of my kidney, darlin

"Did you know that in Australia, they call McDonalds--"

"Shh," Jonathan mumbles, lazily reaching out to press his fingers against Steve's mouth. He doesn't blink when Steve’s teeth scrape against his finger. "Too tired. Shut up."

" _I_ _'m_ too tired, you shut the fuck--"

"Shh," Nancy hisses, louder than any of their voices. She slams the door on her way into their bedroom and either ignores or doesn't notice how they both jump. "I can hear my headache, Jesus fuck, I can smell it, it smells like alcohol and tears--"

"So like you," Steve says. He doesn't flinch when Nancy raises one of her heels and bursts into tears.

Jonathan's always hated seeing people cry, not because of the display of emotion, but because he'd want to cry himself. But he's known Nancy for a year now (well, _really_ known her), can identify the difference between her sighs (the ones that last a few seconds are ones of content, the ones any longer are when she wants you to get her a cup of tea or a blanket), knows that she's not sad right now, she's just like this with alcohol.

It's still a weird thing to tell someone, that they look pretty when they cry. But it's _Nancy Wheeler._

She stares at them. Her chin wobbles and Jonathan can tell she has to dig her feet into the floor to keep from running into their bed.

Steve's laughing, so Jonathan nudges him with a slight smile. "C'mere," he says softly.

Steve pats the space next to them.

Nancy drops her heels and sighs her 'content' sigh, marching towards their bed.

Jonathan scoots over. He blinks the sleep out of his eyes and automatically wraps his arm around Nancy, then Steve. Steve's not as drunk as Nancy, but he whispers, "Before our boyfriend _rudely interrupted me,_ I was saying that in Australia, they call McDonalds--"    

He gets distracted by watching them. (It happens a lot.) Steve's doing a terrible Australian accent and Nancy tells him that it's terrible while he wipes the tears off her cheeks. That's the last thing he really remembers about the conversation before focussing on their tired, half-smiles.

They can be insufferable and wonderful when they're drunk. There are times when he's ready to offer them an Ambient and call it a night, but most times, like right now, it's good. Steve yaps on and on about what he learned from an Australian he met at Tommy's Christmas party. Nancy nods earnestly and runs her fingers through their hair. Meanwhile, Jonathan's just comfortable.

"Why do you two let me drink this much?" Nancy eventually groans, loud enough to get Jonathan's attention.

"Because you can make decisions for yourself," Steve says. Jonathan feels his grin against his neck. "And 'cuz you're such a cute drunk. Isn't she?"

"She is. So are you," Jonathan murmurs, poking Steve's stomach.

"You called me annoying two minutes ago."

"You're always annoying, though, that's just a personality trait of yours."

"It's Christmas," Nancy scowls, "both of you stop insulting each other."

Steve lifts his head up, Jonathan nearly whining at the loss of warmth, and cranes his head towards their dresser. "Well, it's not Christmas anymore," he mumbles. "So I can tell our boyfriend to suck my dick."

"Maybe in the morning."

"Maybe--you're supposed to insult me back."

"Okay, then I won't suck your dick in the morning. Pick one."

"You can't suck his dick because we're going boxing day shopping," Nancy says, "maybe after."

"You think I'm going to wake up before noon? Baby, darling, beautiful, I love you, but--" Steve stops speaking when Nancy reaches out and cups his face. "Um, yes, Nance?"

She stares at him.

"Uh," he continues. Steve looks at Jonathan, who looks back like _she's not touching my face, so._ "Okay, I'll go?"

Nancy nods. "Good."

"We need to take down our Christmas tree," Jonathan says.

" _No._ "

He raises an eyebrow at Nancy. "You too, really? Christmas is over, what's the--" Her hands are on his face, and he's not complaining, except he is because now he can't take it down yet. Damn her and her annoyingly nice eyes. "Never-mind."  

"Let's sleep," Steve says. "If we're going to be up at the ass of dawn tomorrow, I'm calling it a night, so, uh, not it!"

"Not it!"

"Not--fuck, you guys, I'm--but I'm in the middle!"

Steve only shrugs.

"But you said it last, babe," Nancy says, grinning. "Turn it off."

"You two suuuuuuuck," he says, shuffling past Nancy. His skin feels all wrong the second he's out of their reach.

"Yeah, but you're dating us, so really, you suck."

"Ooh, Steve, sick _burn,_ " Jonathan chuckles. His fingers brush against the light switch and he hesitates. He looks at Steve and Nancy, who've closed the space he left behind and curled up together, her leg hooked around his, his smile pressed against her hair. "Merry not-Christmas."

"Merry not-Christmas," they chorus.

"Hurry up and come back to bed, I have more _Australia_ facts."

 

 

 

 

 

Boxing day shopping is worse than Jonathan expected.

There are lines, fights, littering _everywhere,_ they can't bring their cat, and he knows these fuckers are doing their _weird_ boxing-day gift thing. (Fuckers being used in a loving way, obviously.) Last year, right after they started dating, Steve and Nancy came to his apartment and slapped an ornament from the Leprechaun movie onto his kitchen counter.

 _Happy boxing day,_ Nancy said.

For a second, Jonathan thought this was some social cue he missed, started to apologize profusely for not getting them one. Steve laughed, started to explain, had to stop because he kept laughing, and properly explained that it was a tradition he had with Nancy to buy the most ridiculous thing they could find while boxing day shopping.

He told them, determinedly, that he'd do it next year and get something even weirder than that.

Well, it's next year, and what the _fuck_ is weirder than a Leprechaun ornament?

He waits until Nancy and Steve are in a ridiculously long line at Bath and Body Works. "I'm just going to go into the washroom, might take awhile since the line's huge, so I'll call you when I'm done?"

Steve, hoisting a bag of soaps and 'winter' scented candles, narrows his eyes. "Number one or two?"

"...Two?"

"...Checks out."

Nancy doesn't say anything, only kisses Jonathan's cheek, and smirks when he absentmindedly reaches up to touch the spot she kissed.

He shuffles through the dozens of people crammed in the tiny store and once he's made it out, he plans.

After twenty minutes, he ends up buying a stuffed raccoon with a Santa hat, because why not? He shoves it into the Walmart bag, in between the stacks of N'Sync posters Steve bought, and runs back to Bath and Body Works.

He finds them waiting outside the store, leaning against the railing. Steve has his arm around her in a casual _mine_ kinda way, and she has her head on his shoulder in a _you too_ kinda way.

He's already running when he sees them. He still picks up his pace. "Hey," he says breathlessly, "bathroom's--"

"That way," Nancy says, jerking her head in the opposite direction. "This better be more impressive than our leprechaun."

"I know you found a way to escape Macy's when we were waiting outside for you," Jonathan says. "I don't know how, but I'll prove it."

"No you won't."

"Yeah, babe, you won't. But you two will lose, 'cuz finding weird shit is my _calling._ "

"He still won't tell me where he found the leprechaun last year," Nancy admits.

Jonathan grins. "He probably made it in art class for a self-portrait."

"My heart has shattered into millions of--" Steve makes an _oomf_ noise when Jonathan yanks him forward by his collar and kisses him stupid. He's still panting a little bit, his cheeks already flushed when Steve's hands drift to his waist. They're in _public,_ and Nancy has her hands on Jonathan's shoulder, and he should be embarrassed, but he's not.

"I'm kidding. Look at you, you're a fucking mosaic, and _you,_ Nancy, you're--I don't know enough about paintings, but. You're like...the Louvre?"

"Shakespeare, is that you?"

 

 

 

 

 

Unsurprisingly, Steve wins.

Nancy bought a bra that cost ten dollars and has Santa--not an animated one, but some random Santa-actor--on each cup. "It doesn't even fit me, but hey, it can be an ornament next year."

They laughed at the raccoon-Santa, but Steve, oh Steve, he found a Freddie Kruger as Santa (or Santa as Freddie Kruger?) costume. Nancy threw the raccoon at Steve, saying through laughter, "How did you win? _Again?_ "

He shrugs. "My secret."

"He bought it at Hot Topic," Jonathan says, reading the tag. "I'm more surprised that Hot Topic has this than by the fact that you paid fifty-seven dollars for it.”

 

 

 

 

 

The holidays are different this year, for multiple reasons.

One, last year he lived alone, across from a couple of high school sweethearts. Now, he lives with them and is called sweetheart nearly every day.

Two, he's not in Hawkins. It snowed out the day they were meant to go. They _could_ go back for the new year, but they started school a few days later and no one truly wanted to put the effort for such a short trip.

Jonathan misses Will’s hot chocolate and his mom’s ugly, dinosaur Christmas sweater. He feels bad for not being there, but mostly because he isn't at all homesick.

Why would he? Here, in their one-bedroom apartment, he's already home.

 

 

 

 

 

"Why is Tommy _also_ having a New Years party?"

"Why do we have to go?" Nancy adds.

Jonathan stifles a laugh at the sight of Steve.

He gawks at them while wearing a headband with antlers, a dishcloth over his shoulders, and cookie dough smeared on his nose. "He's not _that_ bad," he scoffs.

"He's loud," Nancy murmurs into Jonathan's chest, kicking her legs up onto their sofa, "and he's such a _frat boy._ "

"So am I!"

"You're a jock."

"Is there a difference?" Jonathan hums when Nancy noses along his jaw. He can't hold back his laughter when she widens her eyes at him.

"Obviously. If Steve were a frat boy, we wouldn't be dating him."

"I don't understand, but I feel like I agree."

Steve rolls his eyes. He sets the dishcloth down, turns the oven off, and crosses the short space between them. He settles down by their feet, leaning his head against Jonathan's chest. "I'm a great boyfriend. I'm making you two assholes cookies."

"You're making cookies because we wouldn't go out and buy them," Nancy says. "They're spite cookies. _That's_ why we're dating you."

Jonathan can't see Steve's face, but he knows his boyfriend is smiling when Nancy bends down to press kisses along his neck. She punctuates each kiss with a loud, "Mwah".

Steve laughs. He swats her away at first before leaning back and laying his head on Jonathan's shoulder. His eyes flick up. "If I'm a jock, he's emo."

"We already knew that, idiot," Jonathan chuckles, reaching out to stroke alongside Steve's jaw.

Nancy makes a noise of agreement. She settles her head back on Jonathan's shoulder, keeping her fingers in Steve's hair. They spend the next fifteen minutes arguing about what Nancy is, before Steve shrieks because he forgot the cookies were done. Nancy bites into her cookie the same exact moment she smears Steve's nose with icing, then Jonathan.

The apartment's (an even bigger) mess when they're finished smearing icing and throwing ornaments on each other.

And that's why Jonathan's dating them.

 

 

 

 

"Nance, you have to say hi to him, it's his party."

"Fine," she grumbles. They're all wearing Christmas clothes. Tommy insisted, saying that _Christmas is a feeling, not a day_ in his text message, right before telling them he would only let them throw up _once_ in his apartment before being kicked out.

 _But there's so many people there, how is that efficient_ \--Nancy started to huff, stopping when Jonathan quietly shook his head.

She shoves her hands into her green pair of pants. "That's all I'm saying, hi."

"That's all I'm asking." Steve kisses her forehead. His arm fits easily around Nancy's waist. Jonathan feels his hand brush against his, and instinctively laces their fingers. Steve looks proud of himself. Jonathan would kiss that look if he could reach him without disrupting their position. He's okay with stroking his knuckle, though.

"Is Barb coming?" Jonathan asks. The elevator dings and they step out, following Steve's lead down the hall.

"Yeah, but I won't see her as much. Kali from my Global Politics class, you remember her, right? She's coming. They're going to kiss at midnight. Barb's had a huge crush her, _and_ I just found out Kali feels the same way. I'm gonna give her some space tonight."

"So she can finally shut up about her crush, how Kali's eyes are browner than chocolate," Steve says under his breath. "Why did you just _elbow_ me?"

"She's lovestruck, it's not annoying. And I was just as bad last year with Jonathan."

"You--what?"

Nancy reddens. "I, what? That's not a complete sentence. Steve, stop laughing at me, you weren't better!"

"Tommy was such a dick," Steve grumbles, "he laughed when I told him about it, said that of _course_ I had a thing for you. At first I thought he was being an ass, but then he said he just found it funny it took me so long to realize it, and that of _course_ I fell for my neighbour, who had a crush on my girlfriend--"

"I had a crush on you, too!"

"I didn't _know_ that, did I?"

"I had a thing for my _neighbours,_ my two best friends, who were dating. You guys have no idea how weird that was."

Nancy firmly grabs his chin and kisses him. "And now we're all fucking and steal each other's sweaters. What a love story."

" _I_ don't take your sweaters."

"Steve does! Do you know how many fucking sweaters he's--"

"And we're here!" Steve kicks the front door open, ushering them inside.

Tommy's apartment is already a mess and it's only nine o'clock. It isn't as big as a campus party. Jonathan guesses there are only thirty people here, lingering in the living room, kitchen, a huge game of go fish (?) occurring by the television. That fact, along with the quiet music, is automatically reliving. _This_ Jonathan can do.

"Stevie!"

This is the only reason Steve would ever disentangle from Nancy and Jonathan: to hug Tommy. These were the friendships that Jonathan would mock in high school, the 'dudebros' who would shout in the halls and give their friends stupid nicknames. But then he fell in love with one and saw an example of said friendship upfront.

Alright, alright, he'll admit it: he was pretty much right about the shouting and nicknames, _but_ he was wrong in thinking they were all assholes.

"Timothy, my boy, you look _good,_ " Steve says, clapping a hand onto Tommy's shoulder.

"Now I understand why you don't like Tommy," Jonathan whispers to Nancy. He shoots a quick glance at Steve, who's explaining the pun on his sweater, _get it, Fleece Navidad, 'cause it's a sheep or a goat or whatever._ "You're jealous."

"I won't kiss you at midnight," she threatens. "But you can kiss my ass."

"Gladly."

"Stop ruining our bickering--"

"You guys came!" Tommy releases Steve, _finally,_ and waves at Jonathan and Nancy. "And Jonathan, you wore a Christmas sweater!"

"I can't disobey the dress code," is what he says with a slight smile, not adding how Steve wouldn't let him. "I expected a bigger crowd."

Tommy shrugs. He takes a quick sip of his red cup and pauses to burp. "Quieter night with good friends is much better. I, uh, left your gifts in the kitchen. Your names are on it."

"You _got us_ something?" Nancy blurts.

"Yeah, 's no big deal. Get yourselves comfy. I'm ninety percent sure I heard Ginger from Nursing throw up, and that's _the third time, Ginger!_ "

The second Tommy's out of earshot, Steve raises an eyebrow, grinning. "Isn't he cool? Isn't he?"

"He got us a gift," Nancy repeats, dazed. "Oh my god."

Jonathan laughs and tugs on her hand. "We'll get drinks, you go say hi to your friends."

Steve kisses them goodbye, Nancy yanking on Jonathan so quickly the moment he's gone that he almost falls over.

 

 

 

 

 

 

"You can't fall asleep."

"Yes I can," Nancy says. She buries her face in Jonathan's stomach. "I'm pretty sure Barb and Kal are fucking in Tommy's bedroom, so my work here is complete. I'm tiiiiiiiired."

"Who asked you to wake up at six today, huh?"

"Jonathan, everyone makes mistakes. Like your haircut last month."

"You said you liked it!"

"I say a lot of things. I'm a good girlfriend.”

Steve taps Nancy’s thigh with his foot. “You're so good that you won't fall asleep before midnight. Right?”

"C'mon, Nano," Tommy says, popping his head from the kitchen. Someone half-asleep on a sofa tells Tommy to shut the fuck up. "You gotta stay up. It's the New Year!"

Nancy raises her head from Jonathan's lap. "Nano? I don't like that one, try again."

"Nan!"

"Am I your fucking grandmother?"

"Shh, there are people sleeping," Jonathan coos, rubbing Nancy's shoulder.

Steve kicks his legs up onto a chair from his position on the floor, knocking an empty cup onto the floor. "Dude. Your place is trashed."

Tommy shuffles past his kitchen, into his living room. He turns the music off and sighs, plopping next to Jonathan. "Thank you, Stevie," he says dryly, lifting up a half-full bowl of chips mixed in with Coca Cola. "I didn't notice." Tommy sets the bowl back down, reaches out to grab his phone, and shoves it into Jonathan's hands.

He blinks. "You already gave me a pink shirt. This is too much."

"What--no, Johnny, c'mon," he says, laughing. 

"When did Johnny happen," Nancy says quietly enough that only Jonathan hears. He shoots her a grin, partly out of amusement, partly because Tommy's more endearing than he'll ever know.

"Your turn for the music. Anyone who'd give me shit is either asleep or dating you, and you're used to Stevie shitting on your music."

"Which is ironic, considering he went to a  _Chainsmokers_ concert."

Steve blows him a kiss. "You looooooove me."

"Somehow," he replies, his eyes crinkling with a smile. "And, uh, sure." He plays the one Queen song that he remembers Tommy ever talking about and swallows another laugh when Tommy shouts  _oh shiiiiiiiiiiiiit_ at the beginning of Bohemian Rhapsody. 

Sure, the song's popular. But everyone loves Bohemian Rhapsody. 

This wakes Nancy up. But where he'd expect her to tell Tommy to listen to his Nan and shut up, she instead joins him.

"Galileo!"

" _Galileo!_ "

"Galileo!"

" _Galileo!_ "

Steve drops his head on Jonathan's shoulder. "I'm so happy," he says, his solo cup sloshing with -- Jonathan leans over to get a sniff -- water, thank god. "Nan, go solo, name your next album after me--"

Ten minutes later, Jonathan glances at his phone and realizes they have five minutes left until the New Year. 

"Fuck, where's the goddamn TV remote? Why are all my friends  _slobs_ and why are they all fucking  _asleep,_ you useless pre-med majors--"

Steve jumps to his feet and touches Tommy's shoulder. "Dude, it's chill, we'll look for it. Go call up Care and do your weird kiss over the phone thing."

"Don't tell me that means they're going to kiss on the--"

"Nance," Steve says. "I won't tell you, 'cuz you already know."

Jonathan's the one who finds the remote in a vase. Tommy's so relieved, he flings his arms around Jonathan and squeezes, tight.

"You. You are good."

"So are you, man," he says honestly, blushing a little when Tommy pulls back.

The TV's playing a live stream from Madison Square, filled with people, lights, colour, and of course, the large timer. 

Nancy, Steve, and Jonathan sit in a triangle, knee against knee against knee. "Are we doing the same thing as last year?" Jonathan asks.

Nancy and Steve exchange a look. "Fuck it," she says, "why not? But I'm properly kissing the both of you afterwords."

"You say but like that isn't a bonus," Steve says.

"Thirty seconds!" The anchorman on the TV hollers.

"Um. I love you guys?" Jonathan says, smoothing his hands over his black jeans.

"Why the question mark?" Nancy sounds amused.

"I don't know, I feel like I should be making some grand declaration or somethin--"

"My New Years resolution is to kiss you guys more often."

"Was that supposed to be a pick-up line? You've picked us up already, calm down. That wasn't even--what are you trying to say?" 

"Nance, I've picked you and Jonathan up, and I'm never letting go."

"...That was good, alright, I'll give ya that. I love you both, more than anything. I'm glad I'm here with you two."

Jonathan reaches for her hand, then for Steve's as the five second count-down starts. They're smiling, Nancy has a huge hot sauce stain on her red blouse, the sheep with a red hat shines on Steve's sweater, and their hands are all sweating. Jonathan can make out Tommy and Carol cooing ridiculous pet-names through their Skype call. 

It's not the New Years he used to spend with his mother and Will, with cheap party horns and confetti made from old schoolwork and leftovers from Christmas dinner, but it's just as good.

"Three...two...one! Happy new--"

" _Ow!_ "

Despite the pounding in his forehead, Jonathan laughs. "How did we bump our heads  _again?_ " He touches the corner of his mouth, the spot where he felt the corner of  _their_ mouths, and smiles.

"I love you, Thomas--"

"Tommy, where's your ice?"

"I got ya, Nan!"

"Babe, is that your grandma? Tell her I said hi!"

"See, I'm not your grandmother, so why are you calling me Nan?"

"Why the fuck are you calling Nancy Wheeler Nan? Call her, like, Hot Wheels or something."

Jonathan can see the lightbulb go off in Tommy's head. "Care," he says, beaming, "you're a fuckin' genius."

Steve rubs his head, laying down on Jonathan's lap and gently pulling Nancy along with him. "Next year," he promises, "we won't bump our heads."

"We said that last year," Jonathan says.

"I think we just get super excited." Nancy's voice is slightly muffled by Jonathan's jeans. "Next year: no excitement, no joy. Treat it like a mission, boys."

"But kissing you guys is always exciting."

"You're so cute," Nancy says. She bops his nose. "Can I kiss you guys properly now?"

"Definitely," they say, and she laughs.

 

 

 

 

 

They stay behind to help Tommy clean his apartment. At that point, it's already three. 

"You guys can stay here," Tommy suggests. Carol had to hang up because she had plans with her family, but none of them really needed the excuse to stay.

Jonathan crashes first. He also wakes up first, too. 

The apartment is quiet, still. Tommy's laying face-down on the carpet, phone in hand. He must've called Carol at some point. People sleep all around him, but Jonathan's not concerned with other people--just his people.

Nancy and Steve snore gently on the floor, next to him. Steve's hand, strewn over Jonathan's waist, shifts slightly, but he doesn't wake up. She stirs, but her leg remains firmly wrapped around his. 

It's January 1st, twenty-nineteen. Jonathan already came up with 'resolutions', per Nancy's suggestion last night. Drink more water, wear less black, more colour (Nancy's idea), and listen to more Chainsmokers (Steve's idea, and something that'll never happen, thanks). 

He tries to think of anything else he wants to change.

But as he shuts his eyes and lets sleep pull him back again, entangled with his partners, he finds that he likes things the way they are. If 2019 looks like this year, then he's good. 

**Author's Note:**

> i love how this mentioned new years more than christmas when i'm posting this ON christmas but???????? whatever
> 
> also i want to clarify that Steve calls him Timothy bc it's a joke?? and also bc i thought Tommy's real name was Timothy at first until i looked it up so I just KEPT IT IN
> 
> and still turning out made me weirdly attached to Tommy, i s w e a r i was going to give Kali a scene, but NEXT TIME. valentine's day, probably, bc she???? deserves more bc she has so much POTENTIAL 
> 
> there are typos. i'm sorry
> 
> have a lovely day!!!!!! merry christmas!!!!!! happy kwanzaa!!!!!!! happy new year!!!!!!! please comment if u enjoyed!!!!!!!!!!! i'm going to hibernate now see u guys in like 2 months!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


End file.
